They Loved to Laugh
by musemesmer
Summary: Callie Jacobs has been in juvie for a year and a half after a fight with her previous foster father. Now she's out and living with the Fosters, an unusual and unusually happy family. But she has to find her sister Sophia, who she hasn't heard from in months, and figure out how to keep her past from catching up with her - all while trying to fit into this strange new family.
1. Chapter 1

"Stop fidgeting," the new guy said sharply.

"I will if you tell me where Sophia is."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Callie glared at him, leaned against the car, and folded her arms. She had been out of juvenile detention for all of ten minutes and already she was being reprimanded. _The foster system is a prison,_ she thought moodily.

She didn't like this guy. She didn't even know him. Not that she liked Bill all that much - he kept putting them in shitty homes - but at least he was familiar. Apparently, Bill had some massive emergency and couldn't be here for the five minutes it would take to hand her off to her new foster parents.

Well, fifteen minutes now. No wonder the new guy was pissed. It was supposed to be an easy, five minute exchange of a kid nobody really cared about. But the foster parent was late. _Great sign. I'm probably stuck with another drunk._ She started pacing again.

"Karli -"

"Callie," she mumbled. If there was one thing she liked about herself, it was her name.

"What?"

"It's Callie. You said Karli."

"Okay. Callie. Just keep quiet and still. Don't cause any trouble - you could end up in juvie again or a group home," the new guy said.

Callie rolled her eyes at the usual threat, but leaned against the car again, itching to walk around. For the first time in a year and a half she was able to spend more than 15 minutes outside, and she was stuck with this guy.

She bit her lip to hold back the questions. Where was this new foster family? Why couldn't this guy just drive her to their house? And most importantly, where was Sophia? It'd been a nine months since she'd last seen her sister, at Christmas, when Bill brought her for visiting hours. Since that blissful hour, they'd written letters, until they suddenly stopped a few months ago. Callie kept trying, though. She'd always try for Sophia.

Another ten or so minutes passed before a minivan rolled up to where the two severely disgruntled people stood. A dark woman in nice work (and kind of preppy) work clothes got out, looked around, and then walked up to the two of them.

The new guy stuck out his hand, "Hi, are you Lena? Hi, I'm David."

The woman took his hand, "Uh, hi - "she faltered, "Where's Bill? I thought I was meeting him here to talk about -"

"Bill couldn't make it. He had an emergency with another one of his kids."

Lena gave Callie a look over and said, "Uhm, David, was it? Can I talk to you for a minute?" The two walked out of hearing distance. Callie watched them apprehensively. Lena seemed worried, while David earnestly reassured her. Lena looked her up and down once more, and Callie scowled and looked at the ground. _Like she'd take someone like me._ They walked back to her after a couple of minutes.

"Okay, Callie," David said, handing over a file to Lena, "You're going to be going with Lena for a few weeks. Bill will check in when he can."

"Wait - but what about Sophia? I just – I don't understand why I can't talk to Sophia."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've got to get going. Lena - you know where to find me if you need anything." He shook her hand once more, got in the car, and drove off.

"Okay, Callie. Let's get going," Lena put an arm on Callie's shoulder to guide her to the car, and instinctively, Callie flinched away.

Lena looked briefly hurt but didn't mention it. "Do you mind going to the supermarket? I need to pick up a few things for dinner. Do you want anything in particular? Are you allergic to anything?"

Callie stopped while buckling her seat belt. It's been ages since anyone asked if she had a food preference. Was it a test? "I'll eat anything," she responded, glancing up to see Lena's reaction.

Lena chuckled, "Just like my youngest, Jesus."

 _Youngest? How many kids does she have?_ Callie thought, but remained silent.

After a few more minutes, Lena asked, "So, Callie, I heard you talking to David. Who's Sophia?"

Callie shot her a look and turned to the window, "Nobody."

"Is she your girlfriend you haven't seen in a while or -"

Callie whipped around and glared at Lena outright. "Girlfriend? What, do you think I'm some dyke?"

* * *

 _A/N: So this is my first fanfiction in years, and my first on this account. So please review - I'm open to suggestions on anything from plot to writing style! Jude may show up later as Robert's son, but I'm not sure yet._

 _The title comes from a 1924 book They Loved to Laugh by Kathryn Worth. The idea comes from SpectraVondergeist's story "Never Feel Alone." I highly recommend reading it. A few lines from this intro chapter come from the first episode of the Fosters. And I don't own the Fosters._


	2. Chapter 2

_After a few more minutes, Lena asked, "So, Callie, I heard you talking to David. Who's Sophia?"_

 _Callie shot her a look and turned to the window, "Nobody."_

" _Is she your girlfriend you haven't seen in a while or -"_

 _Callie whipped around and glared at Lena outright. "Girlfriend? What, do you think I'm some dyke?"_

* * *

Lena

It was lucky that they had just pulled into the parking lot, because otherwise Lena might have crashed the car. She couldn't believe that such a hateful word had come out of that girl's mouth. For the second time that day, she was at a loss for words. "Oh, okay, but you know –" she started, but Callie had gotten out of the car. Lena sighed, and followed the girl who was already waiting with the shopping cart.

It was not an enjoyable trip. Lena tried asking the girl what she wanted, but Callie kept on shrugging. She was so closed off that Lena soon gave up asking. She _did_ bag everything and load the bags into the car without being asked – and without a word of complaint. But then again, she didn't say a word at all. This was very hard for Lena, who had a knack of making people open up to her immediately. _I have my work cut out for me with this one,_ Lena thought grimly, _the only problem is that I don't even know where to begin with her._

Lena showed Callie to the kitchen table and started putting away ingredients – but there too, just like at the store, Callie was right by her side, putting things in the refrigerator.

The only time she spoke was when she asked if she could help with dinner. "Oh, thanks for asking, Callie, but I'm good. I'm almost done. Why don't you relax a bit? The TV's in the other room and the kids will be home soon."

Callie stared at Lena as though she had grown three heads, then sat quietly at the kitchen table. Lena found it kind of nerve-wracking that the girl kept watching her: the girl's eyes seemed to pierce her, and she dropped the spoon a couple of times from nerves. It was almost as though Callie had made her a stranger in her own home.

Finally, the kids came home from their various after school activities, Stef following them. "Just in time for dinner!" Lena said cheerily. She introduced them all, and kissed her wife back.

"So let me get this straight," Callie said, elbows propped up on the table and speaking for the first time in at least an hour, "Brandon's the real kid, they're – what, charity cases, feel goods? – and you two are dykes."

There was a stunned silence around the room. Everyone stared at her. Lena saw a brief triumphant look in Callie's eyes and frowned, confused. _Why would she try to antagonize us?_ It seemed so counterproductive to what a new foster kid would want to do – which is, cozy up to the family.

"We don't like that word, or labels in general, but yeah, they're gay," Mariana said.

"And our moms. ALL of our moms. We're all the real kids. We're nobody's charity case," Jesus finished.

"Yes, Mariana and Jesus are right. But let's eat before the lasagna gets cold!" Lena jumped in, offering Callie some lasagna and salad. She could feel Stef's glare and guessed she would get an earful later.

She was right. After dinner, Stef left Mariana to wash dishes and Jesus to dry, and pulled Lena outside. "Okay, I understand why you did it, but someone who calls us dykes? And our precious babies charity cases? Really, Lena? And what happened to her face?"

Lena took a deep breath, "She's not violent – I checked – but she got beat up in juvie."

"In juvie!"

"Apparently, it's common for them to beat someone up if –"

"If they're getting out, yeah. But Lena, what do we know about this girl, really?"

"Not much. She's not the friendliest child. Barely said two words to me after the car ride." And Lena told Stef about how violently Callie reacted to the assumption that the mysterious girl was her girlfriend. "I never did find out who that girl is – I forget her name."

"She's incredibly hostile!"

"I know, I know, honey," said Lena, "but I think she just really needs a chance, you know? But if you say no, we can call bill tomorrow…"

Stef sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "No…you're right, let's give her a chance. She can stay for a bit, but if she causes any trouble, we'll have to find another place for her. And we have to talk to her. We can't have another dinner like this."

"No," Lena agreed, "we definitely can't."

* * *

Callie

Lena and Stef walked back inside, presumably after talking about the angsty new kid they agreed to foster. Callie didn't know why they were doing it – clearly they didn't need the money and they had enough kids. Their family seemed perfect. A little too perfect. _Maybe I'm being punk'd, like that show._

"Mariana, Jesus, thanks for your help. Can you go upstairs, please? We'd like to talk to Callie. We'll be up in a bit," said Stef. Callie froze, and then put another plate away. _Did I push too hard? Are they getting rid of me already? I bet it's because of Stef, cops never like me…_

"Did they ask you to help?" Stef asked Callie as they sat around the table. "Because I don't want them getting out of doing their chores –"

"No, I just did it." Callie said shortly.

"Why?" Stef asked. Callie shrugged.

"It doesn't matter," Lena cut in, "Callie, we wanted to talk to you the rules for staying here. Curfew is at 7 on weeknights, 10 on weekends. If you leave the house, you tell us. You'll go to school with the kids – I'm vice principal."

"But most importantly, we respect each other here," the cop continued, "We don't curse in this house and we don't use the word dyke or similar words. We don't insult people. I get that you've had a rough day, but if you're going to be living here with us, you gotta take it down a notch, kid."

"We're on your side, Callie," Lena finished.

Callie nodded stiffly. She didn't want to be here talking to them. She didn't want to sit in front of a cop and get lectured at again. Callie had already put a significant amount of distance between them. She'd shown that she could help with the chores without being asked, so she was useful to keep around the house, but she'd also (hopefully) shown that she didn't want to be touchy-feely with them. Especially since she'd be gone soon, anyway.

The women seemed to be waiting for a verbal answer, but Callie didn't give one. Stef sighed, "Okay, Callie. I'll show you where to sleep and we'll get you some clothes."

An hour or so after they had gone to bed, Callie kicked off the covers on her makeshift couch bed and walked into the kitchen. The cordless phone wasn't there. _Crap._ She crept upstairs to see if she could find someone's phone. At the top of the stairs she paused. All the lights were out in the bedrooms. Snores were coming from a few of the rooms. And one of the doors was open a bit.

Callie tiptoed toward the door and saw Brandon sound asleep, back facing her. His phone was plugged into the charger. She grabbed it, went downstairs, and dialed the number she knew by heart.

"Wha' is it?" a sleepy, disgruntled woman's voice said.

 _Shit. Shit._ Callie didn't expect _her_ to answer. "Hi," she said in a falsely high voice, "I'm looking for Sophia Jacobs. Is she around?"

"Who wants to know?"

Callie gulped. "My name's Delilah. I work with the bus company. Sophia's bag was turned into the lost and found and it has this phone number on it…"

"That good-fo-nuffin girl don't live her no more. Don't call here again," she said and hung up. Callie sighed and moved to erase the number from the phone.

"What the hell was that?"

Callie spun around. A very severe looking Stef was standing behind her with her arms crossed. Callie jumped so severely that she nearly dropped the phone, and as it was, she caught it right before it tumbled to the floor.

"I, uh—" she stammered.

"Give the phone to me, Callie," Stef said and put her hand out. Callie placed the phone in Stef's palm, folded her hands, and looked at her shoes - ready, waiting, to be hit.

"You erased the number. Smart girl," said Stef. Callie looked up at her in confusion. "If you want to hide what you're doing, always erase your tracks. Now – will you tell me what you were doing?"

"I – I wanted to call someone," Callie murmured. She was still confused. She wasn't getting hit. _What's with these people?_

"Hon, I gathered that much," Stef said dryly, "I'm not a cop for nothing. I'm good at figuring this stuff out."

Callie stiffened when she remembered that Stef was a cop. With her pajamas on and hair down, the woman looked almost friendly. Almost – if she weren't in the middle of scolding Callie.

"I just wanted a friend of mine to know that I was out of juvie. I promised them that I would let them know as soon as I was out."

"Must be some friend, for you to call them at 11:30 at night."

"She is – I mean, they are –" Callie stammered, cursing herself for slipping up, "My closest friend. Haven't seen them in a while."

Stef remained silent for a minute and then said, "Do you like tea, Callie? I was thinking of making some."

It wasn't so much of a question as a command, so Callie followed her into the kitchen and waited while Stef made the tea. Stef put a mug of steaming chamomile in front of Callie, put a bit of honey in her own, and asked, "So this friend didn't come to visit you much, then?"

Callie sipped her tea, eyes narrowed. She really didn't like this cop digging. "No. It's not like it's easy to visit people in juvie. The bus doesn't exactly go right by there."

"I see. So you were in there a while, then?"

"Yeah. 18 months."

Stef choked on her tea a little bit. "Damn, that's a long time. What happened –?"

Callie put her mug down and yawned. "You know, I'm really tired. I think I'm going to try to sleep."

"All right," Stef sounded disappointed. "Goodnight."

"'Night," said Callie.

"Oh, Callie?" Stef called when Callie was at the doorway, "The top step on the stairs creaks really loudly. Keep that in mind next time you can't sleep at night."

Stef drained her mug, flicked off the light, and walked upstairs, leaving a very confused Callie still standing in the darkened kitchen.

* * *

 _A/N: It'll pick up after this a bit, I promise! Just wanted to set the groundwork. Please review!_


	3. Chapter 3

Callie

Callie woke up the next morning at 6:30, a habit she had gotten into at juvie. She didn't know where she was at first, and was surprised to find herself so comfortable. The sheets were clean, the pillows extra fluffy, and there were birds chirping right outside the window. She hadn't had a morning like this in a long time. A really, really long time.

She opened her eyes. Sunlight shone through the windows and onto the multiple picture frames that were scattered around the room. Each of them had family members and friends. There was a quote on a canvas on the wall that read, "The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. - Richard Bach." It matched the quote in the kitchen that said, "Be the type of person you want to meet."

Callie, who felt like gagging, turned her attention to the bookcase in the corner. It didn't get better there. There were books by a variety of people, from Dan Brown to Toni Morrison, but many books had to do with psychology, or had names like, _Chicken Soup for the Soul,_ _The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People,_ and _Queen Bees and Wannabees_. Facing front was a book that said, _Eat Your Peas, Daughter,_ with a note that said, "Happy Birthday, Lena! Love, Mom" sticking out of it.

These people. She didn't get them. It looked like the happiness and positivity seeped through the whole family, not just this odd bunch. She couldn't imagine herself ever being this way.

Callie tore her eyes away from the bookshelf and looked at the clock: 6:45. From the sounds of it, there didn't seem to be anyone in the kitchen yet, but the running pipes told her there was someone in the bathroom upstairs. Callie quickly got dressed with the clothes Stef washed for her last night. She made her makeshift bed and then sat next to the sheets, waiting. It wouldn't do to be in the kitchen before anyone else was. She might touch something she wasn't supposed to. After all, their kindness could only last for so long. But then again… she didn't even get in trouble for saying the word dykes twice last night, or for stealing the bio son's phone.

Finally, she heard some people in the kitchen. She waited until there were more of them and walked in. The smell of coffee greeted her gladly.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" Stef called out, "Help yourself to anything – make yourself at home!"

Everyone was there, moving effortlessly in the slightly cramped kitchen. They had their routine down pat – they didn't even need to move out of each other's way, because they weren't in the way in the first place. That is, until Callie tried to get a mug and caused Brandon to stumble and nearly drop a plate of eggs on Mariana's head. Callie maneuvered herself around the kitchen until she could reach the coffee pot, then poured herself a cup. Everyone stared at her, the mothers glanced at each other, and she was asked, "Do you want milk or sugar with that?"

Apparently, coffee wasn't something that minors drank in the Foster's household. Callie shook her head, downed her cup, and poured herself a second. Another habit she had picked up in juvie, but she wasn't going to tell _them_ that.

Her head cleared by the caffeine, Callie ate the scrambled eggs that had been given to her. She began to feel a little nervous – after all, this was her first day of _real_ school in a year and a half, not that sorry excuse for school they had in juvie. And if her classmates were dressed anything like the Fosters were – nice casual, with a hint of prep, she in her old, too small clothing, was screwed.

But nothing could have prepared her for Anchor Beach. She'd never _ever,_ even before foster care, been to a school without fences (discounting, of course, the one at the little kid playground to keep balls, and then kids, from running into the street). _Seriously? A school on a beach?_ Callie couldn't help but gape. Everything was new and in pristine condition. She listened as Brandon showed her around, but knew she'd get lost, because all of the hallways looked the same to her.

Brandon led her to her first class – English with a teacher who insisted they call him by his first name, Timothy. _But actually, who does that? How is that even allowed?_ And to Callie's surprise, it was really good. He seemed nice and friendly, and didn't ask Callie questions that she didn't know – or couldn't guess – the answers to.

But by lunch, Callie had had enough. She'd had two more classes – algebra and history – and by the middle of the former, she was thinking about how to reach Sophia. By the middle of the latter, she had her escape plan. At lunch, she walked around the building, pretending to look at the school, but really scouting the area. It wasn't like anyone knew her or payed attention to the new kid, anyway. _The benefits of being invisible,_ Callie thought bitterly.

Invisible to everyone except her foster family. Mariana walked up to her, "Thinking of skipping town?"

Callie made a face, "What makes you say that?"

Mariana shrugged, "I don't know – you just look like you want to bolt."

Callie struggled with what she could tell this girl. "I just – there's something I have to do. It's important, but I'll be back –"

"Don't worry – I'm not going to narc on you. Don't go out this way – Momma's office is right up there. Go out the other entrance. There's a bus stop about three blocks from here. Oh and take this…" Mariana pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of her bag, "My number. Just in case you need anything."

"Thanks," Callie hesitated, "Why are you being so nice to me? After what I said last night?"

Mariana smiled, "I know what it's like to be the new kid, and the foster kid. I guess you just need a friendly face, is all."

Even more confused by the Foster family, Callie took off, narrowly avoiding an encounter with Lena, and made it to the bus stop right as it pulled up. She clambered on and took a seat in the back where few would look at her. The trip took much longer than she thought, about two hours due to the windy bus routes, and when Callie got there, she realized that school would be out by now, which means Sophia would be home soon, if not already.

Taking a deep breath, she began the walk to her former foster family's house. When she got there 10 minutes later, her heart was beating so loudly in her chest she thought it would explode. The house was unkempt at best. The fence looked like someone had driven into it. The lawn was unmown with weeds covering it. The paint was chipping off the front of the house, there was a large hole in the porch, and the shutters were falling off. Looking it brought back a slew of memories for Callie, none of which she liked.

" _Sophia? Sophia! What happened? What's he doing?" She was thrown backwards into a wall by her foster father. She was running downstairs… grabbing his baseball bat…banging the walls to get him away from her…_

Callie shook her head to clear her head of the thoughts. _No use thinking about it now. Get a grip._ There were no cars in the driveway – it was now or never. She went around to the back of the house and grabbed the spare key that was taped on the inside of the mailbox. An all too familiar stench of body odor, alcohol, and cigarettes hit her as she opened the door, and she gagged. It was dead silent – nobody seemed to be home.

Sophia wouldn't be on the ground floor – they weren't allowed there except for meals or when called, usually to clean something or get someone a beer. Callie climbed the back staircase quietly. She may not know the squeaky steps in the Fosters house, but she could do this staircase backwards in her sleep. She saw, with some satisfaction, that the wall she had hit with the baseball bat was still damaged.

"Soph?" she called softly, "Sophia? It's Callie. I'm here!" Callie walked down the hall to their room, opened the door, and gasped.

There was nothing of Sophia's, but the floor was covered in empty beer bottles and packages of cocaine. The two beds that were crammed in here before were gone. Callie crossed the room to the closet and opened the door, ignoring the dirty laundry, and felt around the back wall for the loose board. She wrenched it open and pulled out her emergency bag – some money and a burn phone, which she stuck in her bra, and a small sack of granola bars (probably bad by now), a bottle of water, and a change of clothes. Callie slung the bag on her shoulders and closed the board, moving to Sophia's loose board.

Sophia's emergency bag was still there. None of her other things were, but her sack was still there. Callie's brain raced. _Why would she have left it? Could she have forgotten it? I told her a million times...she couldn't have._ Callie put the sack in hers and left the room. As an extra measure, she checked the other rooms on that floor, and even the basement, but there was no trace that Sophia was living there.

"Sophia, what's happened to you?" Callie wondered aloud.

The door opened and closed downstairs. She heard John and Liz talking in their abnormally loud, roughly-accented voices. _Shit._ How the hell was she going to get out of here? The windows wouldn't work – a lot of them had broken glass and she didn't trust the roof to hold her weight. The backstairs was the only option. She'll make a run for it once she reached the bottom of the stairs. But when she reached the bottom, she heard his awful voice.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" John, her former foster father, and his wife Liz had spotted her. He was a very large man – tall, imposing, and unfortunately, although he had a prominent beer belly, he was very fast. His wife was similarly built, though a bit shorter, and what she lacked in speed she made up for in aim when she threw things at people.

"I told you to never come back here, you bitch! You ruined my house! You lost me my foster license!" John advanced toward her and pulled a gun out of his jacket.

Callie took one look at the pair of them and bolted. She don't know how she managed it, but she jumped over the fence with only a slight scrape to her leg, down one street and another, running faster than she ever had in her life. She knew John was somewhere not far behind her. She glanced back – he was reaching into his jacket for his gun – he was going to catch up to her! _Crap._ Shoving her hand down her shirt, she pulled out the emergency cell phone and prayed that the battery still work. It did – barely. She dialed 9-1-1.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"There's a man chasing me with a gun! Hurry! I'm on Main and 3rd St. NO, I'M NOT IN A CAR, I'M RUNNING."

"We have an officer in your area. He'll be there soon. Please stay on the line…"

But Callie had shoved the phone in her pocket to keep running. She was so close to the bus stop…there were always people there… if only she could get a little closer…

 _WHAM!_ John caught up to her and tackled her flat to the ground. Callie could feel her knees and elbows scrape the ground and she struggled to get up, but he was too strong. She managed to turn over and _WHAM!_ He punched her in the face. And again. Her head slammed painfully against the pavement. Callie's vision swam before her eyes, she was going to pass out…

Then there were flashing lights, and loud noises, and John was off her…she could breathe again. There was a nearby thump and Callie turned over to see that he had been tackled by a police officer. _Karma,_ she thought grimly.

She got to her feet and the world spun. The other policeman caught her and led her to sit gently on the curb. "Who are your parents, hon? We have to give them a call so they can pick you up." _Hon. Just like Stef._

"Uhh…" Callie said, and held her head in her hands.

"I'll call the EMTs. She might have a concussion," the first policeman said.

Then she remembered Mariana's number and the phone in her pocket. She dialed the crumpled number with shaking hands. "Hey, Mariana?"

"Callie? Oh my god, where are you? We've been so worried! It's so late! What happened?"

"Mariana, shut up and put Stef on." Callie said wearily.

"Callie? Where are you? What happened?" Stef asked, but Callie couldn't speak. Thankfully, the cop took the phone from her and explained the situation.

"She's on her way," the cop said when he had hung up, "She'll be here soon."

Stef arrived so fast that Callie thought she had sped on every single road….or maybe it was because she was dizzy that the time seemed to go so fast. When Stef arrived, Callie was being checked out by the paramedic. Stef ran up to her and gave her a hug, concern evident on her face for this girl that she barely knew.

"She has a mild concussion," the paramedic said, "And she's had her tetanus shot, right? Because when she scraped her leg on the fence, bits of it got stuck in there. I got it all out, but it's always good to check."

Stef looked to Callie, who shrugged. "I don't know my medical history."

"She's my foster daughter," Stef explained to the paramedic.

"It's probably nothing. But keep it clean and if it looks bad, call the doctor immediately. She needs bed rest for at least a day – call the doctor if her head gets worse. Otherwise, she's free to go."

"Thank you very much," Stef said.

Callie hopped down from the vehicle and a policeman walked up to them. "Officer Foster, you said she's your foster child?"

"Yes, she is."

"Well, considering the circumstances and what Callie told us, we're going to let her go. But this better not happen again."

"Oh, it definitely won't. Thank you very much."

Stef put her arm on Callie's back and gently but forcefully led Callie to the car. Once the doors were closed, Stef turned to her and asked, "Please tell me what the hell you were thinking. Why did you go down there?"

Callie hung her head. Thankfully, talking to the cop had given her time to prepare her story. "I just wanted some of my old things. The clothes I'm wearing aren't even mine. They were given to me by Bill. Seeing all those kids at Anchor Beach with their nice clothes…and I haven't even HAD clothes of my own for the past year and a half…and I don't know. I don't even care about nice things. But foster kids…we usually just have one bag, and the rest of our stuff gets stolen…and then I had nothing and I just wanted something that was mine."

Stef paused for a moment after this. "That's it?"

Callie blinked, "What do you mean?"

Stef responded impatiently, "I mean, that's the only reason you went back into this dangerous environment?"

"I kind of snapped at Anchor Beach," Callie shrugged, "It was….kind of a culture shock, going from juvie to…that. I'm not a runner, I swear. I've never done it before and I don't plan on doing it again…" She was beginning to babble. Why was she babbling?

"We would have bought you clothes of your own if you had asked!"

"Most….most foster families don't do that. I didn't think you would be different."

Stef looked hurt, and like she wanted to retort, but took a deep breath to get a hold of her temper and sighed. "Okay, Callie. We'll talk about this more at home, after we've all had time to calm down." She put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking space.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks so much for the follows and reviews, loves! It means a lot...please keep them coming! They fuel the story._

 _A couple things: This story will primarily be from Callie's perspective, but will occasionally have other characters' perspectives. I'll mark it when appropriate.  
_ _Also, I'm going on vacation next weekend and won't have time to update, but I'll probably get another chapter up before then._


	4. Chapter 4

Callie

Luckily, Stef had fended off the questions from her children and Callie was allowed to crash as soon as she got home. That night was rough. Callie had to be woken up every few hours because of her concussion, so neither she nor Stef and Lena got much sleep. When she awoke the next morning, it was oddly quiet. She couldn't figure out why – it was a Thursday – and everyone should be getting ready for school.

"Morning, sweetie," Stef said from across the room. She had her pajamas on and a mug of tea in her hand. Her hair was still wet from her shower and pulled back in a bun – but not a cop bun, a messy bun.

 _Why would she call me sweetie? I'm not her child._ She was nobody's child, come to think of it.

"'Morning," said Callie. "Where is everyone?"

"School. You're staying home for the day. Lena's taking a half day and will be back in an hour or so. I'm not on patrol today and can do some paperwork from home."

Callie immediately sat up. Foster families never liked when she was sick and couldn't go to school, or when they had to take care of her and miss work. "I'm okay, really. I can go to school, I swear." She stood up, everything swam, and she sat back down.

Stef gave her a wry smile. "Yeah, you're as fit as a fiddle. The doctor said you had to rest today. And so do Lena and I, after waking up every other hour last night."

"You didn't have to. I'm sorry." Callie mumbled, looking at her hands.

"Nonsense. Of course we did. Had to make sure that precious head of yours was okay." Stef got up. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Just coffee, please."

"You need to eat. Do you like pancakes? I'll make us some, and eggs. Freshen up and come into the kitchen when you're ready."

Callie grabbed her clothes and headed to the bathroom. She looked pretty awful – there was still some dried blood on her face, which she washed off, and her face was bruised first from juvie, then from John. Well, there was nothing she could do about that with no makeup and no money.

Money. That word brought back a flash of memory and she quickly dressed and went back to the living room to the backpack she got yesterday. Her emergency money was still there, and so was her cell phone. It was dead, so she plugged it in behind the couch and shoved the backpack there as well, separating Sophia's stuff. She'd have to find a better hiding place for that when she was home alone. _I doubt that will be anytime soon, with the number of kids in this house._

Stef called from the kitchen, "Callie, honey, are you ready? Soup's up!"

 _Honey? What the hell?_ Callie walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. "Thanks," she said, when Stef put the plate in front of her.

Stef sat opposite her with a cup in her own hand. "You sure drink a lot of coffee for someone your age," she commented.

Callie shrugged and began to eat the pancakes. They were delicious, but she wished she had syrup. As though sensing what was missing, Stef asked, "Do you want syrup?"

Callie looked up, surprised, and nodded. Stef got it for her and returned to her own pancakes. The lasagna her first night here was great, but she hadn't had something this good since before juvie. Then again, she was a sucker for all breakfast foods.

After a few minutes, Stef spoke again, "Do you want to talk about what happened last night?"

Callie looked up in surprise and accidentally blurted out, "What, I have a choice?"

Stef laughed. "Well, kind of. We can talk now or later, when Lena's back."

She silently weighed her options. On the one hand, talking to one person is easier than talking to two. But on the other, Stef's a cop and Lena seemed to temper her. Unfortunately, Callie's choice flew out the window. Lena walked in just then.

"Hi honey," she said, kissing her partner on the cheek, "My meeting got out early, so I thought I'd bring my paperwork home." Lena smiled at Callie, "How's your head feeling, love?"

 _Why would they care?_ "It's fine," Callie responded, "Look – can you just tell me where you're sending me? Juvie or to a group home?"

Lena sat down next to her partner and shared a look with Stef. This clearly wasn't where they planned on their conversation going. There was a pregnant pause and then Lena said, "Honey, what makes you think we're sending you anywhere?"

 _Ugh._ Callie ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "Let's see…I was rude to you the first night, stole your son's phone, on my first day of school I ditch, run away, and nearly get myself killed."

"What? Who's phone?" Lena asked.

"Callie wanted to make a phone call and took Brandon's phone. I saw her and we talked about it. Brandon doesn't know." Stef leaned forward, hands clasped. "We're not sending you away. Not yet, anyway. But things are going to have to change."

Lena nodded. "Stef and I talked earlier this morning. We agreed that you have had enough punishment from this already, so we're going to ground you for a week. School, home, homework, and bed. Once your head is better, you'll do the dishes each night….so probably Monday. No desserts and no TV."

Callie remained silent. This wasn't a bad punishment at all – it was how things normally were for her – and she definitely wasn't going to make it worse by complaining.

"There's more," Stef continued. Of course there was more. There always was. "You will check in with Lena after lunch and after 5th period every school day for the next two weeks."

Callie looked up, frowning. _This_ was new. Nobody ever checked up on her. She didn't understand what the point was, opened her mouth to say so, thought better of it, and closed it again.

"We just want to make sure you're safe, sweetie," said Lena, "That you're adjusting well…and that you're still there, of course. They're just check-ins."

Callie nodded.

"So, do you want to tell us what was so important that you risked your life to go to your foster father's?" Stef asked.

"I already told you!" Callie said impatiently, then checked her tone, lowering her voice. "I just wanted some things of mine, that's all."

"Callie," Stef said, "what was in the bag?"

"What?"

"The bag you had on your back from your former foster home. What was in it?" Stef asked.

Callie hesitated. "Just a couple changes of clothes and a picture of my mom."

Stef looked at Lena nervously and Lena continued. "Callie…we wanted to know. Your former foster father was arrested last night with drugs on him and in his house. We aren't going to kick you out if you say you did, but did you ever use drugs? Or did he ever ask you to sell them?"

"Oh god, no!" Callie said, a bit relieved. "I would never do that – and he didn't." He was too busy asking her and Sophia to do _other_ things.

"Good," Stef breathed a sigh of relief. "We were wondering if that's what you went back for, or if that's why you got sent to juvie."

"STEF!" Lena scolded, whacking her on the arm.

"What? It was!"

"Yes, well you didn't have to say it like _that._ "

Callie let out a very small chuckle and the two woman looked at her, startled. "I promise you, it was nothing like that." The women looked at her expectantly, but she tightened her lips and looked at her hands, refusing to say more.

"Honey," Lena said, "Would you mind showing us the bag? We want to ensure that everyone is safe, that's all."

Callie bristled at the word honey, but got her bag for them. She was glad she had taken the phone and Sophia's stuff out and that the money was with them.

Callie wordlessly handed the bag to Lena, who gave it to Stef. She was shaking with nerves. Nobody had ever looked in this before. Stef looked in the bag and started taking things out, examining them for safety. "Why do you have cliff bars in here?"

"For food."

"And lipstick? You don't seem like the makeup type."

"It's mace disguised as lipstick." Callie decided that honesty was the best policy now. "And there's a keychain that's disguised as a cat. It's to stab people in sticky situations."

"So it's a getaway bag?" Stef asked, looking at her with piercing eyes.

"Uhm, sure." Callie looked her straight in the eye. "Just in case things got bad and we - I – had to leave fast."

"We?" Stef asked sharply.

Callie shuffled her feet nervously. "Foster siblings, I mean."

"Has that happened before?"

"Couple times, yeah."

There was a pause. Lena hung her head while Stef looked at Callie steadily. Then she got up and tossed the cliff bars in the trash.

"Wait, please don't -!" Callie started, but Stef was walking to the cupboard and taking out not only granola bars, but chips, and a bag of camping meals that advertised deliciousness "with only a bit of water and a minute of shaking!" Stef put them in the bag and handed it to Callie, who found herself at a loss for words.

"Thank you," she said, trying to convey with two words how much that meant to her. Nobody had ever done something like this for her before. And certainly no foster family she had been in before would have allowed her to keep the bag.

"You'll never need to use this here, Callie," Lena interjected. "But it's important to us that you feel safe. And if that will help you feel safe, we want to stuff that bag with all the food you can carry."

"We'll take you shopping either later today or tomorrow so you can have some clothes, and you'll get a phone after your week of being grounded is up. You won't have much data or access to the internet, but you can call or text anyone in the family. Your location services must be on at all times so we know where you are. If that works, we can talk about more phone privileges," said Stef.

"Why?" Callie asked before she could stop herself.

"Why what?" asked Lena.

"Why are you doing this for me? What's in it for you?"

"We just want to help you out, Callie," said Stef. "It looks like you could use a little bit of it. We care about you."

"You don't even know me," Callie responded bitterly, "And I don't want charity or pity."

"That doesn't mean we don't care. It's not charity or pity…it's…it's just doing the right thing," finished Stef.

Callie didn't say anything back. She didn't know what to say – nor did she believe them. Adults don't do nice things just because. There was a catch somewhere. There had to be. Next thing she knew, she'd be laundering drug money for them or something.

* * *

Callie spent most of the day sleeping. She woke to a loud squeal somewhere in the room and opened her eyes to see Mariana jumping up and down. She had just gotten home and was talking to her moms while the boys walked past, rolling their eyes.

"Good luck," Jesus said, seeing Callie was awake.

"Yeah, you'll need it," said Brandon.

Callie sat bolt upright. "Need it for what?" she asked, her pulse suddenly racing.

"SHOPPING, silly!" Mariana said, plopping down next to Callie on the couch. "Moms said we could go shopping when you were awake and you're awake!"

"Sorry," Stef said with a grin when Callie looked at her, wide eyed.

"Show me what clothes you have," Mariana demanded and, when Callie looked down at the second outfit she owned, Mariana's smile faltered, then broke out even wider. "Come on, we're burning daylight! We have so much to do!"

Callie groaned. "Okay! I'm up!"

Mariana chattered all the way to the mall about clothing options. But she quickly became discouraged about Callie's lack of enthusiasm once they were in the store. Callie shrugged at the clothing options, and after an hour Mariana threw up her hands and slammed a flowery dress back on the rack.

"Okay, Miss Thing, calm down," Stef said. "Not everyone loves shopping like you do."

"You really don't need to buy me any clothes," Callie said, "I'm good with what I have."

"Callie," Lena said, struck by inspiration, "What kind of clothes would seem practical?"

"Dark clothes," Callie said after a moment's thought. "Things that don't show dirt and last a while."

"If you had your choice, how many outfits would you have?"

"I don't know."

"Guess."

"Five to seven, depending on my budget. I don't mind cycling through the same things."

Mariana's eyes lit up. "Come with me," she demanded, grabbing Callie's hand and dragging her across the mall to another store. Callie looked around. The stuff here was definitely less expensive and more practical – things she could layer, and the like.

Stef and Lena walked behind them slowly. "That was very well done, love," said Stef.

Lena smiled. "I thought of how you handled the getaway bag and jumped off of that."

Stef reached for her wife's hand. When they caught up with the girls, Callie was putting a few shirts in the shopping cart on top of a few jeans. She stopped when she saw her foster moms. "I don't expect you to buy all of these for me, I'm just trying them on," she said nervously.

"Don't worry about that," Stef said. "I doubt in here you'll reach your limit, anyway."

"What's my limit?" Callie asked, gripping her hands together tightly.

"$300." Stef said.

Callie's eyes nearly popped out of her head. Never had she had that much money to spend on anything before. Mariana squealed again and led Callie to a couple of jackets that looked like something Callie might wear.

"We didn't agree on setting a budget," Lena said, "and that's a pretty high budget."

"I don't think she felt comfortable spending our money without knowing what we'd be willing to pay for. Plus, it's not like she'll reach the limit. I expect that she'll be under that so she won't feel bad about spending our money, but this way, she'll actually have clothes."

Stef was right. Callie and Mariana came back with a cart full of dark colored tops, shorts, and jeans. Callie had stocked up on bras, underwear, socks, and a pair of shoes, all of which Stef had said didn't count towards her budget, but which Callie counted anyway. Callie looked at the items in her cart, hoping her math was correct, and grabbed the dark grey jacket that she had been eyeing. It would be good in a variety of temperatures, which justified it in her mind. Then Mariana came back with some necklaces, bracelets, and a set of earrings.

"You can vary your outfits more this way. Don't worry – it's only $15." Mariana had been watching Callie add and subtract for a couple hours now, "You're at $225."

"I didn't know you had been counting." Callie admitted, "You didn't have to do that.

"Of course I've been counting." Mariana said, "I love math and I really love a good bargain."

"And," Stef said, taking out her wallet, "We have coupons."

Callie breathed a sigh of relief. These people clipped coupons, just like the rest of the world. They weren't crazy rich people. Just…crazy well-off people.

The total came out to $175– just over half her budget, but still twenty-five over her personal budget.

"Thank you so much," Callie kept on saying on the way to the car, "I can do extra work around the house or something to pay you back…"

"Callie, stop it." Lena said firmly. "We're glad to do it. You just have to promise to do one thing once we get home…"

"Name it." Callie said without pausing.

Stef and Mariana grinned at each other wickedly and then said in unison: "Model the clothes for us!"

 _Oh, god. Anything but that._

* * *

 _A/N: So I'm back from camping and should update more often. At the very least, once a week, hopefully more. Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows! Please keep them coming._

 _I don't like this chapter that much - a lot of filler - but I have good plans for next chapter. :)_

 _Also, WTF was that episode last night? It was like, "EVERYTHING IS ABOUT SEX." I am NOT a Brallie fan, and this just seemed stupid, especially with Callie's past and sex issues. /endrant._


	5. Chapter 5

Callie

Her foster mothers observed Callie from a distance that week. Callie found Stef watching her at odd moments – when she was eating, or doing her homework, she could feel those eyes on her. Every time, Callie stared back, as though challenging Stef to say something, but she never did.

After the rough start at the Fosters' house, she was determined to keep her head down and be a good girl, all the while waiting for a word from Sophia. She hadn't tried to contact Bill, because in her experience, he always did a lot more harm than good. The second her phone was fully charged after over a year of inactivity, she checked her messages and saw that multiple calls from an unknown number had been placed in the last month. She didn't recognize the area code, but when she searched, she saw that it was somewhere in California. There was no answer whenever she called back, but she was sure it was Sophia. It had to be. So she'd kept trying, every day, at different times, using the burner phone and not the phone that she was borrowing from the Fosters.

It felt weird to have a phone. Even weirder to have one that she was allowed to use whenever she wanted – well, except during school or dinner, of course. She tried, at first, to use it like the rest of the kids were, but she didn't have anyone to text, and she wasn't allowed to use the internet or download games on it as part of her temporary restrictions. And since she had messed up so badly the first few days with the Fosters, she wasn't willing to push her luck on something so stupid. So after the first few days, she just kept it in her backpack for emergencies.

She wished that her punishment was over. Her head felt better quickly, so she did the dishes every night after that without complaint, going so far as to take people's dishes to the sink for them, and even taking care of their breakfast bowls, which Stef and Lena had assured her was unnecessary, and Jesus said was "overkill."

Callie didn't mind doing the dishes, though. It was the awkward check-ins with Lena twice a day that she minded.

"Callie, hello!" Lena would say, always sounding surprised to see her. Which was totally false because she was the one who required that they meet.

"Hi," Callie would respond shortly, standing awkwardly, arms crossed. Callie was aware that her body posture screamed defensive, and she guessed that Lena knew it. What she didn't know was that Lena recognized fear, trauma, and distrust in the girl, but she'd never say so to the girl.

"How's your day going?"

"Good."

"Do you want to eat lunch here?"

"Uhm, no, thank you."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I'm good."

And then after 5th period:

"How are your classes?"

"Good."

"Are you paying attention?"

"Yes."

"Good. You can go back to class now. See you after school, dear!"

The situations were essentially the same each day and were awkward, unnatural encounters for Callie, who didn't know how to handle Lena's cheerful manner.

At her foster home, she not only cleaned up the dishes, but set the table and took out the trash in addition to her homework. This lasted for a few days until Stef saw her doing it and said, "Callie, the others have to help too, you know. There are FOUR of you to split up the tasks!" After that, Callie would do it if nobody else was, but gave her foster siblings the chance to do it first. Just so she wouldn't be yelled at.

One day, the kids came home from school to find Stef and Lena's cars parked in the driveway.

"Uh-oh," Jesus muttered, halting.

"This can't be good," Jesus said.

"What's wrong?" Callie asked, stopping too.

"Moms are both home," Mariana said. "That's never a good thing."

"It means someone's in trouble, or something bad happened," said Jesus.

They all looked at her. "What?" Callie said defensively, "I didn't do anything!"

Mariana blushed and looked away, and Jesus looked at his feet awkwardly. Brandon cleared his throat. "All right, let's go inside then." He led the way, the others following. Callie was last, her heart beating very fast.

"Kids?" Stef called from the living room, "Can you come in here, please?"

Stef and Lena stood in the living room with a very large box there, and some smaller ones with it.

"We have some news," Lena said, "Callie – we got you a bed!"

Callie blinked. "A – what?"

"A bed! So you don't need to sleep on the couch anymore."

"But where's she going to sleep?" Jesus asked.

"With me, silly!" Mariana squealed, jumping up and down. "I knew the bed was coming but didn't know it would be today," she explained to the confused looks her siblings and Callie were giving her.

Callie forced a smile. She didn't know what it would be like to live with someone so…so girly as Mariana. But then again, she survived juvie. "Thanks," she said. "You really didn't have to do that."

"Actually, we kind of did, by law, if you wanted to stay in this house…" Stef began.

"But really, it was our pleasure. We wanted to," Lena finished.

Callie smiled and looked at her feet. She didn't know what to say, or what to do in a situation like this. She was never given things. She just borrowed what was there. She couldn't imagine that Mariana was as thrilled about this as she let on.

"All right," Stef jumped in, breaking the tension, "Let's get this open and moved upstairs. Brandon, Jesus – we'll need your muscle!"

They went to work setting the bed up. Mariana had moved her clothes and some furniture over to make space for her new foster sister.

"Callie, can you grab some water bottles please?" Lena asked as Brandon and Stef finished putting some screws in place some thirty minutes later.

"Sure."

Callie went downstairs and when she came back, there were packages on the new bed. Her new bed. Stef grinned at her stunned expression.

"Well, open them!" she said.

In the packages were things she needed – soft, jersey material blue-grey sheets, a warm cover for the bed, a brand new pillow, a bathrobe, and a brand new towel set just for her.

"Of course, you can use our stuff too, but we thought you'd like to have some things of your own," they explained.

"Thanks," Callie said, not meeting their eyes. Looking at the stuff was easier. "But you really didn't have –"

"Stop." Lena said, "I don't want to hear it. We wanted to."

Callie stayed quiet.

"All right, we'll leave you to get settled," Stef said, ushering her children out of the room.

Callie made her bed and put the few clothes she had in the two drawers that Mariana had cleared out for her. Then she sat on the bed and stared around the room. The bed was comfier than she'd imagined – and definitely comfier than the couch. But she definitely didn't deserve this comfort, and she knew her extra phone and getaway bag would be a lot harder to hide in her.

Mariana came in awkwardly. "Moms say dinner's ready, if you want to come done."

"Ok," Callie responded automatically, following the girl behind her.

During dinner, a delicious homemade risotto that Lena had whipped up, a phone rang. Callie sat up straight, super alert. _Sophia._

"Guys, you know the rule – no phones at the dinner table," Lena said.

The kids looked at each other. "It's not ours!"

"Callie?" asked Stef.

"No – mine's over on the counter," Callie said, pointing, and trying to keep her hand and voice from shaking.

"One of you probably forgot to turn your ringer off. Just check it after diner," Lena said as Mariana and Brandon made to get up from the table to check.

Mariana sat down with a sigh.

Callie looked at her plate, heart beating fast. She was no longer hungry. The only person who had that ringtone, she knew, was her. Her burner phone. And the only person who had that number, she knew, was Sophia. And if Sophia was calling, either she was looking for her because she needed her or…or she was in trouble. Neither situation was ideal.

Callie had hoped that Sophia's silence meant that she was with a fantastic family and Sophia wasn't worrying about or missing her big sister. But if Callie was being honest with herself, she knew that wasn't the case. They loved each other too much.

She half-assed the dishes after dinner and ran to the living room to get her phone. After making sure no one was there, she pulled it out from behind the couch. Sure enough, someone had called the phone. Callie didn't recognize the area code, but she knew that the only person who had that number was Sophia.

No one was around. They had all gone upstairs. Callie crept out the back door into the garden and dialed the number.

It rang. And rang. And rang. No answer.

She tried again. No answer. And again. No answer. After the fifth try, she let out a sigh of frustration and went back inside. Automatically, she went to the couch, before remembering she was now sharing a room with Mariana. She tucked the phone in her pocket and climbed the stairs, flopping down on her new bed. She wanted to pull the phone out and call again, but didn't want to call attention to her phone. Mariana kept on looking at her, clearly not used to sharing her room with someone.

"I'm going to bed. 'Night." Callie said, flicking off her lamp. She'd call again tomorrow – and maybe, just maybe, her little sister would answer.

* * *

 _A/N: I'm so, so sorry for the wait! I moved to Europe from America in August, and it took me a while to adjust. I didn't have time to write. This chapter is more of a filler one, but don't worry - you'll have some more action and hear from Sophia in the next chapter! It'll be up within the next week. I have more time to write, now that I have a fixed schedule._

 _Hope y'all are still reading. I'd love to hear from you. Enjoy, loves!_


	6. Chapter 6

Callie

When Callie woke the next morning, it was still dark outside. The clock on Mariana's nightstand read 4:45 AM. An unholy hour, Callie thought glumly. She'd slept poorly that night, waking up almost every hour and checking her phone. Her bed was great – too great, actually. She wasn't used to a mattress and covers so soft. She hadn't had a bed like this in forever…not since her mom was alive.

Callie turned over and tiptoed downstairs. She turned on the light above the sink and, in the dimly lit kitchen, made herself a cup a coffee.

Maybe if she called now, Sophia would answer.

Or maybe if she called now, Sophia would get in trouble for waking people up.

Callie couldn't decide which was more likely, and which was safer for Sophia. But action is better than inaction…right?

She dialed the number.

It rang. She waited. One ring, two, three, and then…

"Hello?" A little girl's sleepy voice sounded in Callie's ear.

Callie nearly dropped the phone in excitement, and spilled some her coffee in her haste to catch the device. "Sophia? Soph! It's Callie!"

"Callie!" Sophie sounded more alert now, and her voice dropped to a whisper, "I didn't know if you were still in juvie, I didn't know how to call you…"

"Don't worry, baby, I'm out. I'm okay. I stopped by the house. Where are you?"

"When you left, they put me in a new foster home. Two months ago they moved me here. In San Ysidro."

When you left… the words were like a knife to the heart. Callie swallowed and asked nervously, "Is it a good one?"

Sophia hesitated, and Callie knew. It was bad. "How bad is it, Sophia?"

"We've had worse homes," Sophia answered after a moment.

Callie closed her eyes briefly. "Soph, are they doing…what John and Liz did?"

"Not – no, they aren't."

Not yet. Okay. "And the other stuff? Any bruises?" She tried to sound casual for Sophia's sake, but knew as soon as she stumbled over the word bruises that it was a lost cause.

"They're small. Not that bad, Cal. Only a couple of times."

Small bruises. Not big abusers, just people who occasionally lost their temper. She could handle those people. "Okay, I'm going to find a way to come and get you. We'll figure it out. No more foster homes for us."

"Promise?"

"I'll do my best. But it'll be a couple of days before I can get there. It's the weekend. I have to sneak out when they're at school…" Callie heard a creak and stopped.

"Cal?"

"Yeah, I'm here, baby. I just thought I heard someone. I should go. You, too. Get some sleep. I'll see you soon. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay. I love you, Callie."

"I love you too, girl. I miss you."

Callie put the phone down, heart racing, and buried her head in her hands. She was taking a few deep breaths to ward off tears, when someone said, "Who was that?"

Callie yelped and nearly fell off the stool. Stef reached for a mug as though she hadn't seen Callie jump and poured herself some coffee, then more for Callie.

"Nobody. Just a friend." Callie said quickly, mopping up the coffee she had spilled when Sophia had answered the phone. She sat on the edge of her seat, subconsciously jiggling her leg. How much had Stef heard? How am I going to be able to talk to Sophia now?

"It's really early for a phone call for just a friend," Stef said and sat across from her foster daughter.

Callie shrugged.

"What's that?" Stef asked, pointing to the prepaid phone on the table.

Shit shit shit. The fear on Callie's face must have shown, because Stef lowered her coffee mug and said, "I'm not going to bite, Callie."

Callie looked down at her mug and mumbled, "Uhm, it's just a phone that I had from a previous foster home to help me keep in touch with a friend. It's prepaid and just for emergencies. I didn't use your money at all, I promise. It was all mine that I saved from other foster homes. I just didn't want to lose the number in case my friended needed me."

"Okay…." said Stef slowly, as though she didn't entirely believe the girl, "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, we're just getting back in touch."

Stef gave her a long look. "Okay. No problem. But there will be some rules with it."

Callie stiffened automatically. WHY hadn't she been more careful?

"The same rules apply for both of your phones. No phone at the dinner table or when we're having meals together. No texting during class, and you can't use it after bed time. Got it?"

Callie nodded.

"Great," said Stef, "I'll tell Lena about the extra phone, but it's up to you if you whether or not you want to tell the others. Now, what do you want for breakfast?"

Stef

…when they're at school, then, Stef heard Callie say. Who was she seeing soon, and who did she love? A friend of hers, a girlfriend? Stef didn't know, but she certainly didn't trust Callie enough to get the truth from her.

"Stef…Stef…hun, what's going on?" Lena asked, waving her hand in front of Stef's face.

"What? Sorry," Stef said. She had zoned out while putting her hair in the bun she needed for work.

"Where were you just now?" Lena asked, sliding her arm around her wife's waist. A simple gesture that always sent goosebumps up Stef's spine.

"Thinking about Callie," she responded, and told her about the part of the conversation she overheard. "Love, do you think you can watch her closely at school for the next week or so? Just to make sure…"

"Of course. I was planning on it, anyway."

"You were?"

"Yes, well, it's the first week she doesn't need to report to me."

"Maybe we can lengthen that…" Stef began, but Lena cut her off.

"No. Do you want her to distrust us forever? No, I'll just ask her teachers to alert me to any unusual behavior. That'll be okay."

"Fine," Stef sighed.

"I know you're frustrated, honey, but we have to be careful with her, remember? She's been through a lot." Lena put her other arm around Stef and rested her chin on her wife's shoulder.

"Yeah, I know. I just wish we knew what – or could prevent more from happening to the poor girl."

"Stef, you – you can't save them all, honey." Lena said, turning to face her wife and looking her seriously in the eye.

"I know," Stef said again, "But maybe this one we can. I have to try."

"And I love you for that," Lena kissed her wife on the cheek.

Stef seemed to be becoming paranoid about Callie. It was starting to be obvious to the other kids that Stef was keeping an extra close eye on the newcomer.

"What did you do?" Stef heard Mariana asking Callie one night. The girls were in their bed and Stef was just about to say goodnight to them, when she stopped dead in her tracks

"What do you mean?" Callie asked, using her guarded voice.

"With moms? Mom has been watching you like a hawk. They usually only do that if we're in deep shit."

Stef wanted to tell her daughter not to curse – god, I'm turning into Lena – but held her tongue so she could hear more.

Callie sighed, clearly exasperated. "I don't know. I wish I did."

"Must be annoying."

"Yeah, it is. Did you tattoo 'juvenile delinquent' on my forehead a couple of nights ago and not tell me?" Callie asked. Her voice was hesitant, as though not sure how Mariana would take this first joke.

To her credit, Mariana laughed. "No, but maybe I should."

That startled a laugh out of Callie. "What? Why?"

"Because then you'd never be able to get away with anything and moms could get off your back."

"Okay, deal. Do it tonight." Callie said. Stef could hear the smile in her voice and, not wanting to ruin the moment, quietly backed away from their door.

Mariana and Callie's cautious, slowly growing friendship was still intact the next morning as Callie showed her some pictures she'd taken with her phone over breakfast.

"Wow, Callie!" Mariana said, grabbing the phone and flicking through the pictures quickly, "these are so good! I didn't know you were a photographer!"

"I don't think I've ever seen you this animated in the morning, Mari," Stef said, giving her daughter a quick kiss on the head.

"Mom, her photos are seriously good. Like, Nat Geo good."

"Have you been a photographer for long, Callie?" Lena asked.

"I'm not," Callie said, taking the phone back and glancing at Stef and Lena before looking back down at her phone. "I've never had a camera phone before."

"Then where'd you learn, sweets?" Stef asked.

"Uhm, a former foster brother showed me how to take some pictures. But it was a while ago. I'm not that good. I really don't have the tools to do much."

"Callie, you should really think about joining the photography club at Anchor Beach," Lena said, "they're always looking for new members and take photography hikes and submit photographs to competitions."

"We partner with them for digital editing sometimes," Mariana said, "they're not the weirdest people in the school!"

"Mariana!" Stef said.

"What? They aren't."

* * *

 _Callie_

Callie shrugged. "I'll think about it." She didn't think she was going to college, and would rather find a job than waste time with pictures.

"You should at least get an insta." Mariana said. Callie looked slightly more interested by this idea, so Mariana persisted. "I'll help you set one up after school."

No, you won't. Callie thought. Last night, after Mariana had fallen asleep, Callie prepped her emergency bag and put it in her backpack. She took some of Mariana's smaller clothes - how big would Sophia be now? The clothes would still probably be baggy for her, but enough to get by for now, maybe...

The food. She took out all but a candy bar and a water bottle. Wouldn't be helpful to have the extra weight if they had to run...

Speaking of running, she planned on doing it at lunchtime, when everyone was busy. She could get to her sister's place in a couple of hours. She felt slightly guilty about betraying the Fosters, but refused to let that guilt get in the way of her plans to help her sister.

The morning dragged on. She didn't even pay attention. Then, lunch was finally there. Callie was going to pretend to take a walk by the beach, and had just started walking, when somebody called her name.

"Callie!"

Callie stopped dead, filled with dread, let out a big sigh and turned, ready to give Lena the fake smile and excuse she had already prepared.

But Lena wasn't alone. Another teacher was with her.

"Callie, have you met our photography instructor? I thought maybe you two could talk during lunch about the club and see if you want to sign up."

Callie smiled, but inwardly: Fuck.


End file.
